Behemoth
by BookWorm77071
Summary: A brutal curse leaves a prince and his Castle's inhabitants poor imitations of their former selves. They try to keep their minds whole, but even a castle filled with magic can be very lonely in hard times. Can a blooming flower bring life back into the dreary Gryffindor Castle? Can she see the soul inside the beast? Written for the Jily Trope Fest.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi! Happy Jily Trope Fest! I realise I am still not done with my two-years-old submission for the Jily Royalty Fest, but I have a really good outline for this one and it's considerably shorter so I will actually finish this in the foreseeable future. Amazing, right?**

 **Thanks a million to my amazing beta, Liv ( anakin-pls on Tumblr) and shoutout to Kristian ( fetchalgernon) and Linds ( snapslikethis) for creating this!**

 **Okay. SO. Basically this is a Beauty and the Beast retelling. I'm really nervous about this! I hope you like it!**

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Neither the characters involved nor the ending of the infamous tale were agreed upon by the citizens of the three remaining districts of the land, but there were a few things that were known for certain, the first of which was that it occurred many years ago (and here was where the storytellers began arguing, for no one was exactly sure how many years ago it happened), on the second night after the year's first full moon. This was how they told it in the one of the most insignificant villages in the least-popular district (Cokeworth and Slytherin respectively):

Southeast of the Black Lake, the fifth-to-last time the darkness took the day and the sun did not rise till the twenty-fifth hour after it set, Gryffindor Castle stood proud in the night, its heat and liveliness mocking S's punishment to the people of Hogwarts, a beacon of hope to all those who did not know who lived inside.

Such was the case of a poor, old beggar-woman who knocked on the walls of the Castle that fateful night.

"Might the Prince grant his humble maidservant a moment's refuge from her curse?" the old woman said in a weak voice.

The guards who had opened the door laughed and sought to send her away, but the Prince heard the woman, and came to the door to see who was there.

When he heard the old woman's story, he laughed along with the guards, a laugh colder than the day-long night outside. "Shall I invite the rest of the inhabitants of your street in, too?" he said mockingly, and taunted her further, saying if the rest of her friends were as ugly as she, surely S would need only lay eyes on them and break his own curse out of fear.

But the old woman persisted, saying she would settle for the darkest corner of his magnificent Castle, that she would provide her own food, and reminded him not to be so quick to send her away on looks alone, for true beauty is found within.

"I offer you this lily," said the woman, "which has magical properties. It survives the curse every time it is upon us and will survive the next six."

"A flower that will last me one hundred and twenty years," scoffed the Prince. And once again, he turned her away.

As the Prince stepped forward to shut the door himself, the old woman's appearance melted away to reveal a beautiful sorceress, whose eyes were the colour of the clouds on the moon that night.

The Prince realised how he had sinned to the woman and fell on his face, and begged her for forgiveness.

But the sorceress had seen the wickedness inside the Prince's heart and refused. Instead, she transformed him into a hideous beast, "As harmful to the eyes as your heart to my soul," she said, and all that saw him feared him.

"You have until the lily you rejected wilts," said the sorceress, "to find a soul who you love, who will love you in return, and declare it."

While the horror of the Beast's form traveled quickly throughout the land of Hogwarts, the fate of Gryffindor Castle's household and the people of Gryffindor was unknown.

In Slytherin, the people said that all the others had died as punishment for their Prince's arrogance. In Ravenclaw, people said the spell was not only on Gryffindor's Prince, but on all the citizens of the district as well. They agreed with the general story of Slytherin, for the most part. However, in Ravenclaw it was said that the sorceress was too cruel with the young Prince.

It was Hufflepuff's whose version differed most. They said that the Prince's household remained with him throughout the curse, and were still there, waiting for someone to come and break it. They said the curse was not for a soul to love the Beast, but for a new soul. Someone who had only seen his monstrous appearance, and truly cared for the person inside.

So no part of the story was really agreed upon, and there were many who even insisted it was only a tall-tale. However, there was one thing everyone, without any argument, knew for certain: if the Prince's tale was real, he would surely die along with the lily he had refused, for who could ever learn to love a beast?

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 **A/N: I'll upload the first chapter right now. Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Provinicial

**A/N: Okay, chapter one. I am super nervous about this. Do you guys remember when they made Captain America a Nazi a few weeks ago? I think most of my readers know I'm Jewish. That really hit me hard. I thought a lot about this, and I decided if gentiles are going to take characters created by Jews and turn them into Nazis, I'm going to take characters created by gentiles and turn them into Jews. So in this story, Lily is Jewish. I'm sure you all know that the Muggleborn/Blood Purity thing is heavily based on the Jews in Nazi Germany, and reading the books those were parallels that were very easy for me to draw.**

 **I'm not going to mention the word "Jewish" in this story. It's coded, it's hidden, it's obvious if you know what to look for. You can headcanon this version of Lily as anything you want, the point is she's a minority here.**

 **So. Um. If you do decide to go ahead and read the chapter anyway (which I really hope you will), I also suggest you read my A/N at the bottom. It's got more information on this change.**

 **Thanks a million to Liv, my beautiful beta, and Kristina and Linds for creating this!**

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The window in her bedroom faced east, and there was no other source of light in the house until either she or her father lit the torches, but Lily was always awake well before the sun rose. She wasn't forced to, of course, Abba had told her many times that the centre of his universe need not work any harder than the centre of everyone else's, but Lily only laughed and waved her hand every time. She liked rising early. She liked the quiet, the feeling that she was the only person in the world awake.

She also liked getting her chores out of the way early on, so that she could have the rest of the day to herself.

At half-past the tenth hour, Lily had completed her work for the day, and left her house on the outskirts of Cokeworth for the Town's Main, swinging her basket in her hands.

The walk was not too far, and after fifteen minutes, Lily had already made it to the Middle Main, where the bakery was.

Lily breathed in the scent of freshly baked goods as she stepped inside. "Bonjour," she said cheerfully to Monsieur Fortescue, who was facing his oven.

He turned around. "Lily," he said, beaming. "How are you doing? How is your father?"

"Very well, thanks," Lily said, smiling. Not many people in Cokeworth were fond of Abba, but Monsieur Fortescue always liked him and Lily, because of all the times he had fixed things around the shop. Since two years ago, when Cokeworth had gone into a recession of sorts, and Monsieur Fortescue's oven crumbled, and Abba had designed him a new one, free of charge, he gave the Evans' free goods whenever they came around.

"Special order for my favourite customer," he said, picking up a white box from behind the wooden counter. "New frosting design. What do you think?" He lifted the lid so she could see.

"Lilies," she said, laughing. "Brilliant. I love it. What is it?"

"Strawberry and vanilla," he told her. He closed the box up and handed it to her. "Would you like bread?"

"We're good, thanks," she said, placing the box in her basket. "I just stopped by to say hi. Abb-my Papa wants to know how the warming drawer is working."

"Wonderfully," he said, beaming. "I tell you, girl, your father's got a magic touch."

Lily swelled with pride. "I know," she said, rather smug.

"You tell him to stop by soon," he said. "And I'm not rushing you out, Lily. I can see that look in your eyes. You want to be off to Pince's, now, don't you? All right," he said, chuckling. "I'll not keep you any longer. Go on. Au revoir, Lily."

"Bonne journée, Monsieur Fortescue."

Lily left the bakery with a spring in her step. She loved when Monsieur Fortescue gave her experimental treats. Lily and her father were not poor, but if not for Monsieur Fortescue's gratitude to Abba, they would not have half the delicacies he gave them.

Lily noticed the stares as she walked around Cokeworth's Main, but she did not pay them any mind. She knew what they said about the mad old man and his dotty daughter who lived on the edge of town, who spoke in funny tongues, who had appeared in Cokeworth as if overnight and would hopefully leave soon, too. Lily and her father were not typical Cokeworthians and were thus not wanted.

But they were citizens of Slytherin, and had every right to reside anywhere on any land S had claimed as his own. And while the Cokeworth populace did not like the Evanses, they did not raise their hands to them, and so they stayed.

Besides, Lily thought to herself as she ignored two young girls giggling behind their hands as she passed, the general public of Cokeworth was not wanted anywhere else in Slytherin, either. Everyone in Cokeworth had been sent away from the District Centre, or else their ancestors had, because they were all descended from people who sided wrong. Their ancestors were not welcome in any of the big cities after opposing S, and ever since, their descendants were frowned upon, driven out forcibly from the Greater District, or killed.

Cokeworth was created as a haven. All those who were not wanted after the First Curse could claim asylum in its walls.

So, really, Lily and her father had more right than anyone to reside in Cokeworth.

Madame Pince's shop was just outside the Middle Main and Lily reached it in no time at all. "Hello," she called as she walked in. The bell on the door rang as she opened it, but she knew Madam Pince would not hear it.

"One moment," she heard Madame Pince say from the back.

Lily tucked her dark red hair behind her ear as she slowly approached the first bookcase on her left. With an outstretched arm, she ran her fingers along the spines of the cool leather books. The shelves in the store were all mismatched; this one had a peeling layer of mahogany paint. Most of the books were old, weakly-bound and faded ink and yellowed pages. Cokeworth did not see very many well-kept books. Cokeworth did not see many well-kept anythings. But Lily did not care. She knew to most of the town she and her father were no more than a pile of old books. She smiled slightly, remembering what Abba had said to her when she had cried about how the people here looked at her. _Don't pay them any mind, Lilit,_ he had said, using her proper name, _It's not as if any of them know how to read._

"What a surprise," Madame Pince said sarcastically from behind her, making her jump. "Mademoiselle Evans."

"Bonjour, Madame Pince," Lily said, turning around and smiling.

"Did I scare you?"

"I didn't hear you come in," she said.

"You ought to pay more attention," Madame Pince said. "And I haven't got anything new, so don't bother asking."

"I've come to return this one," Lily said, picking up an old grey book from her basket.

"Already?" Madame Pince said, and for once she looked surprised. "You borrowed it only two days ago."

Lily shrugged. "I had some free time," she said. Abba had told Lily that they would not tell the people of Cokeworth about their traditions and so they did not know about their rest-day. Abba said they would think them lazy.

Lily thought that it couldn't possibly matter, since no one liked them anyway here (save for a select few Abba had helped), and so who cared if they thought she and Abba were lazy? She didn't argue, though. Abba had been through this before.

Madame Pince scoffed. "None of the young people today _work_ like we used to," she said. She grumbled on about today's generation as she returned the book to it's spot.

Lily wasn't offended. She knew Madame Pince was quite kind to her compared to how she acted towards others. She was probably the closest thing she had to a friend, and she tried to be patient with her.

Lily followed her and stopped in front of an old white wardrobe Madame Pince had taken the doors off of. "Is it all right if I borrow... this one?"

"That one?" Madame Pince said blankly. "How many times have you read that now? Don't you have it memorised already?"

"It's my favourite!" Lily said. "Friendship and bravery, riddles and quests, and _magic_!" Her voice went up and softer on her last word.

Madame Pince suppressed a smile. "Well... all right, then. You can take it. And you don't... have to... return it."

Lily gaped. "You're giving it to me? I don't understand..."

"It's not exactly Arithmantic Arts, demoiselle," snapped Madame Pince, back to her usual short-tempered self. "You can have it, I said. You're the only one who'll ever want it, anyway... not like I'll ever make a Knut off it. I don't even care for it much."

"Thank you!" Lily said, her heart swelling. "Thank you so much!" She threw her arms around Madame Pince.

"That's enough," she said sharply, but Lily could hear that her tone had softened slightly. "Now, off you go, then."

Lily grinned broadly at Madame Pince, said "Bonne journée!" and left happier than she arrived, her basket weighed down by the heavy book and Monsieur Fortescue's treats. She spent several more hours walking around the shops, trading and browsing and ignoring the stares. The thought of curling up on the couch with her new book-her own book!-, eating Monsieur Fortescue's latest creation was all that was on her mind as she walked out of the Southern Main, where the bookshop was, to the Middle Main, in the direction of her house.

She was so occupied with this thought that she did not notice the two men who had started following her the moment they had seen her entire the Middle Main. She vaguely registered the giggles she normally received were louder, but thought it might be due to the ridiculous-looking grin on her face. But she didn't care-her own book!

"Lily!" she heard someone behind her call, and that was when she realised what the extra giggling and whispers and pointing were about.

She groaned internally. Perhaps she could keep walking... pretend as if she had not heard him. Would that be cruel? Lily did not want to be mean... but oh, she did not want to talk to him, either.

In the end, he made the decision for her, when clapped his hand down on her shoulder and spun her around. "Lily," he said again, smiling down at her in what she knew he thought was a charming way. Really, though, Lily saw it as predatory.

She manoeuvred herself expertly, stepping out of his grip. "Bonjour, Severus," she said. "How are you doing?"

Severus Snape grinned at her. "Very well, thanks. And yourself? Got yourself another book, have you? You know, you read too much. It isn't good for you. You ought to pay more attention to what's happening around you."

"Everyone says that," Lily said politely. "Bonjour, Avery."

"Bonjour, Lily," said Avery, the shorter man who stood behind Severus. Lily did not know his given name, and wasn't entirely sure Avery was actually his surname. It was just what everyone called him.

"I have a way you could start," said Severus.

"Sorry?"

"Start paying more attention to your surroundings," Severus said. "You could start with me."

"Could I?" Lily asked, putting an interested look on her face. She didn't want to be rude, after all.

"With dinner," he said. "We could talk about current events."

"Current events?"

"Yes. Currently, I'm the leading man at the Potioneer."

The Potioneer was the company Severus and Avery and most of that crowd worked at-or perhaps they just spent their time there? Lily wasn't sure. She knew they dealt with magic. She knew it was seen as Dark, generally, not uncommon for Slytherin residents. She heard rumours about the Potioneer, about how they slaughter unicorns for their blood, but she had also heard the rumours about herself and her father and wasn't sure how seriously she should take them.

"Well," said Lily. "That's certainly an accomplishment."

"We can talk about it tonight at our dinner," Severus suggested.

"I'm... incredibly busy tonight, Severus. I'm terribly sorry. But I'm flattered." Lily thought that was a strong enough hint, surely he would pick it up. Although he never had before. "I've got to spend the evening with my father," she continued.

Avery laughed cruelly. "Can he even find his hand in front of his face without your help?" Severus joined in with his laughter.

Lily's face went red very quickly. "Don't talk about my father that way! He's brilliant!"

Severus tried to pass his laughter off as a cough. "I don't think _you're_ crazy-"

"My father isn't crazy," Lily said, voice shaking. "He's brilliant." She turned on her heel and hurried back to her house.

Lily could hear people talking about her as she rushed by, not bothering to lower their voices, but she didn't care. She was used to it and she just wanted to go home.

When she finally arrived, she could hear her father working inside the house. "Abba?" she said, her voice carrying through the Evans' small foyer.

"In the dining room," Abba called.

Lily passed through the kitchen, setting her basket down on the counter, and into the dining room (really, though, since the house had a mostly-open floor plan, it was just one corner with a table that seated six), where Abba was working on his latest project.

"How's it coming along?" she asked him.

 _It_ was a dish-washing invention. Abba had started working on it because he thought Lily worked too hard and wanted to give her more time to relax. Of course, he had offered to do the dishes himself, but that hadn't lasted very long. He had not finished the cutlery when he had his idea for his invention and raced off to sketch some plans.

Lily did not mind, though. Abba washed and swept the floors and had invented a machine that washed their clothes. Sometimes washing the dishes was nice. It gave her something to do.

Abba put down his tool and stared at his invention. It was a box-shaped grey thing, covered in knobs and dials and had three hands, two of which were supposed to hold a dish whilst the third scrubbed it and then rinsed it. "I think..." he said, his voice low, and slightly wondrous, "I think I've got it."

"Really?" Lily said excitedly.

"I..." Abba's eyes looked slightly glazed and out of focus. This was not like him. "I think so. Let's see."

Abba stretched his arm out, hesitating ( _not at all like him_ , Lily thought) and turned some dials on the machine.

Lily held her breath.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, with a slow whirring sound, it came to life. Two hands grasped a plate lying near the dish-washer, and held it up in front of the third. It sputtered for a moment, then shot a jet of foam at the plate, and, rather suddenly, lurched forward. Lily thought it would shatter the plate, but it didn't, it just started scrubbing. The two hands holding the plate rotated it so that every inch of the plate was covered in soap, and after a few seconds of this, the scrubbing hand stopped, made a higher-pitched whirring sound than the machine itself had, and began spraying water. The hands flipped the plate over one more time and then lay it on a towel Abba had spread on the table.

The arms folded back up, and the machine was quiet again.

After a moment, Lily broke the silence. "You did it!" she squealed. "You really did it!"

"I did!" he said ecstatically, an eager grin on his face. "I really did! Oh, Lily-leib, you'll never wash another dish again! I can get you to the Academy with this! Just you wait, Lilit, just you wait!"

Lily's heart sped up at that. The Academy. The Hogwarts Academy. Oh, it was Lily's dream to go and study...

"Do you really think-?"

"Of course I do!" he cried. "I know for sure! Help me settle the Thestral; I want to be off to Baronstown by nightfall!"

Lily raced through the house, helping her father pack his things and loaded them onto their Thestral, Farbison, shaking with excitement the whole time.

"Lilit," Abba said to her, running his hands through her hair as they stood together by Farbison. "You know... I'm so proud of you."

Lily laughed. "I'm proud of you, Abba!"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's all for you, Lilit. Everything I do is for you, because of you. You know?"

Lily nodded. "I know."

Abba smiled down softly at her. " _Ich hab dir lib_ ," he whispered, and kissed her forehead.

Lily shivered slightly. They did not use their tongue outside their home. " _Du aoych_ ," she whispered back. "Now, go, Abba," she said. "And come home soon."

Abba grinned broadly. "All right... I'm off! And I'll be back in five days, I'm sure of it!"

He turned and hoisted himself onto Farbison, and Lily waved at them as they rose slowly into the air. After three seconds, Farbison shot off southeast, the direction of Baronstown.

Lily wished him good luck in her tongue as she he and Farbison become no more than a tiny speck in the night sky, but she did not dare say the words aloud. She was outside. Someone could hear her.

 _And so what if they do?_ she thought suddenly. _We'll be leaving Cokeworth soon!_

Lily took a deep breath. " _Zal zayn mit mazal_ , Abba," she said. Then she waited.

After a minute, she giggled. No one had heard her. She was alone. She was safe. And she would be leaving Cokeworth soon-to the Academy!

For the first time in too long, Lily forgot her worries as she went inside her house to make herself dinner.

There were no extra giggles at this hour of the evening on the outskirts of Cokeworth, so she did not notice the two men who had followed her earlier standing outside her house, and she did not hear their quiet discussion (an argument, perhaps?), and she did not see them leave. So there was nothing bothering her as she fell asleep in her bed, clutching her new book, actually excited for tomorrow to come.

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 **A/N: Some translations:**

 **Abba-Dad/Daddy in Hebrew**

 **Lilit-Female Hebrew name meaning night-owl or of the night, also a demon in Jewish folklore**

 **Name-leib-Yiddish term of endearment, name-love**

 **Ich hab dir lib-I love you in Yiddish**

 **Du aoych-You too in Yiddish**

 **Zal zayn mit mazal-Good luck in Yiddish**

 **Please, please, please let me know what you think of my changes. I really can't tell you how nervous I am about them.**

 **(Also, I've got the next chapter ready to go for tomorrow!)**


	3. Proposal

**A/N: Here's chapter two! Thanks a million to Liv, my beta, and Kristina and Linds, who run jilyfest on Tumblr. If you like Behemoth, or Jily, or AUs, check out jilyfest on Tumblr. Lots of great stories!**

 **I appreciate all follows and favourites, but I would also love it if you could take some time to leave a review. Reviews are great because with your critiques and criticisms, I can improve as a writer. Also, you can let me know things you'd like to see happen. Also also, I basically cry when people say nice things about my writing. Anonymous reviews are exciting because they make me feel like I have more readers than are subscribed but I like reviews where you guys are signed in because I make most of my internet friends that way.**

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Like many uncommon things in the world and in Cokeworth in particular, Thestrals were feared. And because people in general and Cokeworthians in particular hated being reminded of their own mortality, they were hated.

Morris Evan was viewed upon in the same manner as these creatures and so when he arrived in Cokeworth and realised he would once again need to take the name Maurice Evans, he figured the damage was already done and purchased Farbison from a breeder in the Greylands.

He knew Lilit also carried the burden of being different in Cokeworth, but she did not complain, and he always tried his very hardest to give her the best life he could without letting her forget who she really was.

And so he only called her Lilit in their home, he had never mentioned aloud to her that the _s_ on her surname had not always been there, and he kept her on the outskirts of their provincial little town. He knew she did not complain, but he always wondered how much she minded.

 _Nevermind that now,_ he thought happily, bouncing slightly with the beat of Farbison's wings.

He had finally done it. He spent years working to find a way to get her to the Academy-he knew she had magic, he _knew_ it-and he had finally done it. This time, his invention would sell. For a lot. He was sure of it.

 _You'll never wash another dish again,_ he had told her. He had wanted to add, or a dress or a counter-top or anything you don't want to do, because now, Lily-leib, now I can really support you.

His beautiful daughter had never gotten to live the dreams her mother had for her, and she was too selfless to voice aloud the dreams she had for herself, but now they could all come true. Now he could get her wherever she wanted to go.

There had been talks in the market-places of dish-washers for ages, but none of them worked. And he had done it. He had really done it. It would sell in all three districts very quickly; once word would reach the other lands, they'd want to buy from him, too.

He shivered, and not because of the cold night air around him. _Oh, Lily-leib..._

If she were here, she would want to keep flying. She always wanted Farbison to reach the stars, so she could touch them with her own hands.

But he did not have time for her games of planet-chasing and comet-racing. He needed to find the IA so that she could play for the rest of her life.

The Inventor's Agency was located in the capital of the Ravenclaw district. There you could sell your product. He had been a few times before, but it had been a while. He was not sure Farbison remembered.

He thought he might be reaching the Greylands now, what with the mist that had started to surround him.

"Farbison," Morris said, leaning forward to talk into the Thestral's ear, "let's land now, shall we? We can walk on the grounds for a bit. I think we're nearly there."

Farbison complied and lowered himself in a dive. Morris' stomach swooped, making him grimace. Lilit might enjoy this, but he was getting too old.

Farbison hit the ground at a gallop and slowed down to a trot. They were on a dirt road in a forest.

 _Was_ this the Greylands? Morris couldn't tell. A nervous glance upwards told him the mist was sinking lower and lower... but if this were the Greylands, wouldn't it be on the ground already?

He pursed his lips. Farbison seemed to sense his uncertainty, and stopped.

"We'll keep going on the ground," said Morris. "I think I see a fork up ahead... surely there will be signs there." He hoped there was a fork up ahead, at least. It was so hard to see in the dark.

After a few dozen yards, the road did split. Neither of the signs said _Inventor's Agency_ , or anything he recognised from the Greylands. The one pointing to the left said _Hangletons_ and the one on the right said _Old Porpington's_.

The Hangletons? That couldn't be right. That was in Slytherin. Surely he and Farbison had left Slytherin.

And Old Porpington's... where in all the lands was that? The sign looked rather old... very old, in fact. Perhaps Porpington's was what they used to call Podmore's Grove? After all, Podmore had re-established Porpington's Hollow... and Podmore's Grove was very near the Greylands... yes, that must be it.

"This way then, Farbison," Morris said cheerfully, leaning to the right.

* * *

Lily only heard the third knock on the door. She sat up straight on the couch, debating whether or not getting up was worth it. She had never had to check the door before... it was a rather exciting prospect. But Lily was in the middle of her book and she doubted that speaking to anyone behind it was a better use of her time. Unless perhaps Monsieur Fortescue had come up with a batch of fresh cookies? If there really was someone at the door, if it had not been the wind-

 _There it was again!_ Another knock on the door! The fourth one (although Lily was, of course, unaware of this).

Lily lay her book down on the couch and rose. She wondered who it could be... People did not visit the Evans' often, and when they did, they always cleared it with Abba beforehand.

She crossed over to the foyer and peered through the reflective looking-glass Abba had set up. Severus Snape stood at the door, waiting in a rather fine set of deep blue robes.

Hmm.

Lily opened the door. "Good morning, Severus," she said.

He grinned at her. "Bonjour, Lily."

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Lily said politely.

"Well, Lily, it's business, but definitely pleasurable," he said, pushing her aside and walking in.

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Please," she said as she followed him into her living room, "make yourself at home. And what do you mean, exactly?"

Snape sighed. "Lily," he said, "you know, you and your father aren't the most popular people in this town."

Lily started. "That's... rather rude." It was true, but it was still rude.

"I'm sorry, but it's true," he said.

"Irrelevant, I think."

"Irrelevant how?"

"Lily," he said, "I'm here as a favour to you."

"I thought you were here for pleasurable business."

"Well, yes, but a favour to you, all the same. You see, Lily... we're about to have a change in rule." Severus looked at her meaningfully.

"Oh?" she said, not knowing what he was talking about, but pretending to look interested.

"Yes," he said, "and it appears your father will not be viewed upon favourably under our new leader."

Lily stifled a snort. This was not news to her. She didn't care of the comings and goings of Slytherin leaders; it was simply a matter of whether they were frown-upon-tolerant or genocidal. Lily and her father always assumed the worst, just to be safe.

"But that's no reason why you need to be viewed upon unfavourably," he continued.

Lily frowned. "Sorry?"

"Leave him," Severus said simply, meeting her eyes, "and marry me."

Lily's jaw dropped.

"You'd be well taken care of," he said. "I'd protect you. I'd-"

But Lily was not of the older generations, and found her voice very quickly. "Do you mean to tell me," she demanded, "that your new leader will be willing to look past who I am and where I come from if I marry you and leave my father at his mercy?"

Severus blinked. Perhaps he did not think she would be so loud.

Lily was shaking with rage and fear. How dare he? In her own home? She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, and maybe a bit of her fist as well... but it was not worth it.

"Go," she said, standing up. "And don't come back."

Severus stood up too. "You're making a mistake. I'll give you another chance to consider-till tomorrow evening-"

"If you come back to my house ever again, I don't think you'll spend another day at your Potioneer place," Lily snapped, voice rising.

Severus glared at her. "Lily, for the last time, I am doing this for you!"

The window behind him shattered and he jumped. She did not. It had been her fault.

Severus looked at the glass scattered on the floor and back at Lily. He seemed to calm down. "See," he said, smiling slightly. "See, we'd be a perfect match. I could teach you how to control it, you know. Your magic. You could do great things in the new rule-"

"Leave now," Lily said coldly, "or the next pane lands in your heart."

Severus' eyes widened. "Have you...?"

Lily simply stared at him.

Severus composed himself rather quickly, too. "I was the only one on your side, you know. But you've done it now."

He stormed past her, muttering the most vile word Lily knew, the most offensive term for someone of her birth, making her gasp.

He knew. He didn't suspect, he knew.

He slammed the door behind him and Lily left to get a broom to sweep the shards, not letting herself cry.

* * *

"Farbison," Morris said, "stop here. I think this is it. Yes... a few more paces."

The Thestral did not seem to want to move, but Morris ushered him ahead. He was nearly there...

"Ah," said Morris, as the IA came into view. "Ah. Yes. I understand now..."

He understood now why he had not recognised the signs. Because he was not at the IA. In fact, judging by the big dark castle that stood before him, he was not anywhere near the Greylands, which had only one castle. A very light one, at that.

"Well..." he said, gazing up at the castle. "Perhaps... we can stay here for the night," he said, uncertainty clear in his voice. "At any rate... we simply can't stay on the grounds... werewolves... you can't fly all night, Farbison, you need your rest..."

Morris nudged Farbison with his legs, but the Thestral shook his head violently.

Morris sighed and leapt off. "All right," he said. "You stay here, I'll go, and at the very least, see if they'll let you spend the night in the stable."

Farbison did not seem to want Morris to go in either, but he waved him off and approached the castle.

He could not see very clearly how big it was against the dark sky, but he saw outlines of menacing gargoyle statues.

 _Interesting decor,_ he thought nervously.

He did not want to go inside... the black gate with spikes on the top was surely a sign that visitors were not welcome, but what else was he to do?

He walked up the path to the front door. He could not be certain, but he thought that perhaps the plants on the ground were all wilted.

Morris raised one arm and, swallowing his fear, knocked.

The door opened slightly. It had not been properly closed.

With a nervous glance backwards, Morris stepped inside.

"Hello," he called out. "Is anyone... home?"

There was a beat of silence. Then, from a far corner of the room (very dark, also, and he couldn't see a thing,) someone called, "But of course!".

Morris jumped. "Who-who's there?"

"I am here," said the voice, and it sounded like the speaker was beaming.

"I as well," said another.

"I am _not_ ," said a third, rather crossly.

"Why are we all standing in the dark?" said the first voice. "Here!"

At his word, lanterns all across the room suddenly brightened. Morris looked around for the people he spoke to... but no one was there.

"Hello?" he said again, a question this time.

"Down here!" said the first speaker, this time much closer than before.

Morris looked down at his feet and yelped.

At his feet were three creatures, yes, but they could not have been the one's to speak to him, because they were... objects.

"Bienvenue!" said the first speaker, a candelabra. "Welcome to our home, dear guest!"

Morris gaped.

"Let us take your coat," said the second speaker, a teapot. It... they... he beckoned to someone behind Morris, who turned and saw a walking coat rack.

"Oh," he said. "Oh, _mein Gatt_."

"Do not take his coat!" cried the third speaker, a clock. (A clock!) "And do not call him a dear guest! He most certainly is not!"

"Absolutely right, of course," said the candelabra. "Cherished guest. Beloved guest. Most honourable, most magnificent, most beautiful guest... Good sir, what is your name?"

"I... Maurice. Maurice Evans," said Morris.

"Monsieur Evans," said the candelabra, "I am Sirius," he said, with a sweeping bow, "Master of the Castle."

"That is not true!" said the clock.

"That's Remus," said the candelabra-Sirius.

"Don't tell him my name! You are _not_ the master of the Castle, and when he finds out, he will be furious."

"He is not an angry man generally," said the teapot to Morris reassuringly. "Don't worry, Monsieur."

"I am as good as master of the Castle," said Sirius, "and at any rate, _much_ better hair-"

"You have no hair."

"Shut up, Remus. Do not listen to him, Monsieur Evans, James-that's his name, the master-will be thrilled to host a guest. Especially one as smart and wonderful as you."

"Stop flattering him!" Remus said.

"Why are you such a cranky clock?" Sirius said. "You know, you used to be a lot more fun-"

"Oh, well, I am sorry if being transformed into an inanimate object has dampened my mood slightly!"

"Inanimate object! Perhaps _you're_ an inanimate object! I can move like never before, thanks very much."

"Oh, yes, Sirius, we've all seen your incredible tricks and flips. Quite magnificent, especially when you aren't setting the roof on fire."

"Why must you always attack me-?"

"Ignore them," the teapot said cheerfully to Morris. "They bicker all the time. I'm Peter, by the way."

Morris picked him up. "But this is incredible!" he said, the inventor in him finally taking over the shocked citizen. "How did you come to be this way?"

"Well, you see," Peter started.

"TRAGIC story," Sirius said dramatically, "I can't even tell it, it upsets me far too much." He threw one of his branches on his face.

"Then why did you interrupt him?" Remus said angrily. "What was the point, why do you always need everybody staring at you?"

Sirius opened his mouth. "How dare you mock my pain?"

"What is all this racket?"

Remus had opened his mouth, but the words were not his. Peter leapt from Morris' arms. The three of them looked at each other.

The voice had come from behind Morris, but he was scared to turn around. The voice was a growl, low and quiet, and it chilled him to the bone.

"Who is this?" said the voice again, and at this, Morris turned around.

"Oh," he said again, "oh, _mein Gatt_."

"Well?" demanded the beast before him.

"J-James," said Sirius quickly moving himself in front of Morris. "He is our guest. We are pleased to have him here, we love new company... he means us no harm... surely, we can let him stay."

"Come to mock our pain?" the beast-James-said in his quiet, terrifying voice.

"No, James," Remus said quickly, "that was me and Sirius-"

"We were only teasing each other-"

"No real mocking here-"

"How did you find the Castle?" James shot at Morris.

Morris started. "I-I got lost," he said in a stammering voice. "I was looking for the Greylands, I got lost."

James bared his teeth. "You must have a terrible sense of direction."

"I, er, guess so."

James let out an odd sort of growl. Sirius relaxed at his feet, and Morris realised it was a laugh. "He can stay," he said.

Morris nearly fell at his feet. "Thank you, Monsieur."

"In the dungeons. As prisoner."

"Are you out of your mind?" Sirius said.

"Really, James, is this necessary?"

"Let the poor man spend the night in a bed, at least."

"Be quiet," snapped James. "The Castle is mine. I decide what happens to it and its inhabitants. Take him. Now."

Without another word, he swept out of the room.

"I'll just go," Morris said. "I'll just leave, right now, I won't come back or tell anyone I met you-"

"No use," Sirius said, and his voice seemed completely devoid of life, which was so _odd_ , because only a minute before he had been so excited. "He's already ordered it..."

"He gets like this sometimes," said Remus apologetically. "He's having a bad day. He's never like this for long... I'm sure he'll be better tomorrow..."

"I think we need to stop making excuses for him,"Peter said uneasily. "We've got a year left..."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sirius said sharply.

"What are you talking about?" Morris asked. All three of them looked up at him in surprise, like they had forgotten he was there.

"Never you mind," said Remus. "It doesn't matter. Come, let's go... yes, really. I'm sorry. I'm very sorry."

Morris looked at them. "You're only a candelabra, a clock, and a teapot. How are you going to stop me?"

"Please don't make us," Sirius said. "Please just come."

And there was something in his voice that made Morris listen.

* * *

 _Vile,_ Lily thought to herself. _Absolutely, positively vile._

How dare he? How dare her come into her house, insult her and her father, propose, and then threaten her? It was that whole crowd, she knew it. Everyone at the Potioneer. They were all rotten to the core. This just proved it.

Two hours after Severus had left, Lily was shaking with rage, but more than that, she was scared. She thought they had done a good job keeping their secret...

"Don't worry about that," she said aloud. "We'll be leaving soon enough anyway..."

She was so excited to leave. She wanted to _do_ something with her life. She knew there were women in the world whose deepest desire was to marry, which was their prerogative, she thought, but it certainly was not hers. Not the she was against marriage entirely... she might like to be a wife someday. She wanted to have children eventually, she knew, and she supposed it would be better if she had a partner in the matter. But none of the men or women in Cokeworth had ever caught her eye. There had been a very pretty girl in the place they lived before Cokeworth, but they had left before she and Lily had really gotten to know each other well. Lily still thought of her sometimes.

One thing was for sure, though, she would not marry here. Not to Severus or anyone else. Her marriage, if it happened, would build her up, not tear her down, and that was not something that could be done with Severus.

Lily started going over the conversation she had with Severus in her head and when, quite suddenly, from outside, she heard a loud whinny and jumped at the sound. Surely they could not be back already? But when she threw the door open, there, sure enough, was Farbison.

"Farbison!" she cried. "Where is Abba?"

Farbison jerked his head and whinnied again. He flapped his wings very hard, almost manically.

Lily didn't think. She grabbed her coat of the hook and slammed the door behind her as she raced down the steps and towards Farbison. He knelt quickly as she jumped on to him. "Take me to him," she said desperately, the worst running through her mind. "As fast as you can, Farbison, go."

Lily's heart beat louder and faster and harder than his wings as they flew. Perhaps he was in a ditch somewhere, all alone, in the cold. He could have a broken bone. He could be bleeding. What if they wouldn't make it in time?

 _Chalilah,_ she said to herself, _God forbid._ She could not think like that. There was just no way.

Oh, she loved her father so much. She needed him to be safe. There was simply no other option.

After a few miserable hours, Farbison dropped to the ground quite suddenly, and the swooping sensation was one Lily generally enjoyed, but she was now to upset to care.

"Here?" she said blankly. "He's... here?"

They were standing in front of a castle. Dawn was nearing, and Lily could make out the outline. It was huge, the highest towers disappearing into the mist that hung beneath the moon. It seemed to be very old, too. The gargoyle statues, she supposed, were meant to be scary, but Lily thought they were outdated and a poor decor choice. Unnecessary. The spikes on the top of the walls and gate should have been enough. Less is more, she always said.

"What's the problem?" she asked Farbison, her heart finally slowing.

He jerked his head towards the door.

Perhaps he had fallen ill and taken refuge here, in this abandoned castle? At least, she assumed it was abandoned. The gardens were a mess.

"All right then," she said, when Farbison nudged her forward. "I'll go see who's home."

Certain Abba was fine, Lily walked forward with a spring in her steps, raised her hands, and knocked twice on the door, which immediately opened. Evidently, whoever lived inside did not think it necessary to keep it locked.

* * *

 **A/N: So here are some translations:**

 **Mein Gatt- My God in Yiddish**

 **Chalilah- God forbid in Hebrew and Yiddish**

 **So what did you think? Was there anything you particularly liked? Or disliked? Again, I'd really appreciate anything you have to say!**

 **I'll probably update tomorrow night or Wednesday morning, for anyone interested in following this story.**


	4. Precursor

**A/N: Chapter three! I couldn't update yesterday-my class celebrated the first day of summer vacation with a mandatory field trip. But my last exam is tomorrow so after that I'm really free!**

 **Thanks to Liv, my marvellous beta, and Kristina and Linds for creating the Jily trope fest which you can find on jilyfest on Tumblr. If you like tropes and Jily, you should definitely check out the other creations!**

* * *

Sirius was sure that if James had heard the old man's whimpers that night, he would have immediately offered him the best room in the Castle and begged his forgiveness. But James had barricaded himself in the North Tower and refused to speak to anyone after sending the man to his fate.

Remus thought they ought to do something about James. That was how he always said it- _do something._ Quite a useless thing to say, in Sirius' opinion. They were always doing something. Whether it was gauging his temper or calming him down or helping him forget what happened or helping him remember who he was, it was always something.

James wasn't really a beast. Surely he could not be the only one in the Castle who remembered what a kind soul he had been. A little immature, okay, but they all were back then, weren't they? They were children. They were older now. They understood more.

And James was so much more mature now, too. Sure, most would see sending people to a dungeon for asking a question as decidedly less mature, but they forgot what poor James had to deal with. The temper wasn't his. It was the curse's. It was _hers_.

Sirius growled just at the thought of the old Sorceress. _May she rot in hell,_ Sirius thought, knowing it was impossible.

He also knew the guilt James would feel when he regained control of himself and so arranged the man-Monsieur Evans-a nice bed in his dungeon. He lit fires. He brought in soup. But there was little he could do about the opening in the wall (for their dungeons were on the upper floors of the Castle, not the lower), which was letting in the Gryffindor district's bitter cold, long forgotten by the land's other citizens, who regarded the Autumn Snowfall Fest as a tall tale and were all entirely convinced the weather only froze come winter.

This was not why Monsieur Evans was crying to himself. He had a daughter, apparently. He was worried sick about her. She had been left alone in Slytherin, he had told Sirius, and was at the mercy of their fellow citizens now. Sirius knew what it was like to be at the mercy of Slytherins and pitied the girl, but there was nothing he could do for her. He could not leave Gryffindor, after all.

Sirius was hopping (one of his least favourite parts of the curse; only one leg) downstairs, and had just reached the ground floor, when he first heard it. The sound he knew to be his saving grace.

"Is this a joke?" came her voice, a mocking sort of disbelief. "Gargoyles outside and an interior that was designed a century ago? _Gatt,_ is this a joke? Who lives here?"

Sirius gasped in delight. He raced towards the girl he could not see, eager to introduce himself, introduce her to _James_!

"Mademoi-" he started to say, and then he was knocked to the ground forcefully.

"Hello?" said the girl, the very barest trace of fear in her voice. "Is someone there?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Remus hissed in his ear.

"A girl just walked in the Castle!" he said, struggling under Remus' grip. "I had to go introduce myself. And her to James!"

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Are _you_ out of your mind? Don't you want to break the curse? James needs a new soul to love him, one he'll love in return, and I think there's no use bothering with the old man anymore because I don't know about you, Remus, but I wouldn't love anyone who'd lock me up, even if it wasn't his own fault."

"Exactly!" said Remus. "He's still not in control, not after more than a century, and it's far too dangerous to let him near another person."

"You know perfectly well he can be in control if we prepare him ahead of time. Don't you want the curse to be broken?"

"Of course I do," said Remus impatiently, "but not at the expense of people's lives, Sirius."

"James would never kill anyone!"

"I won't risk this girl! The old man would have frozen to death if not for the fire you started-"

"But I did start that fire! And James knew very well I would!"

"I am going to make sure that girl leaves the Castle right now," Remus said, picking himself up.

"What girl?" said Peter from behind them. "The pretty one? With the red hair?"

"Well, I don't know I haven't seen her yet-wait. How have you seen her?" he asked.

"You only just came downstairs," Sirius said, realising the same thing as Remus.

"Oh, she's upstairs."

" _What?_ "

"Wow, what a fast young lady," Sirius said, grinning. "Excellent. That's a good sign, you know. And she's pretty. This is going to be so easy."

"What is going to be easy?" Remus asked, hurrying down the hall and up the stairs.

"Making them love each other!" Sirius said, bounding behind him.

"Oh, do you really think so?" Peter said, slightly dreamily.

"Of course! They'll be best friends very soon! Well, no, obviously not, because I am James' best friend, but they'll be good friends. Good enough, anyway."

"Where is she?" said Remus frantically, poking his head into a room on the second floor. "James could see her, he might get upset!"

"Maybe he'll see her soon!" said Peter, struggling to keep up with the two of them, but sounding thrilled nonetheless. "Maybe they'll be friends by nightfall. You can love someone after a day, right?"

"Of course you can," said Sirius.

"No one is finding anyone new to love today," said Remus, as he started climbing up the stairs to the third floor. "It's much too dangerous, clearly."

"It is not!"

"Honestly, Remus, you know all he needs is to be prepared!" Sirius said. "Monsieur Evans startled him, that's all, he was scared!"

"That man could have died! Are you really so selfish you do not care if innocents are sacrificed so long as you get your full head of hair back?"

"I'll have you know, there is nothing wrong with my flame-"

"Hello?" came a voice from above them.

Sirius turned to Peter. _The girl!_ they mouthed at each other.

"Is anyone there?" the girl said, and the three of them crept quietly up the stairs to get a good look.

The girl looked to be around the age they were when the wretched curse was cast, seventeen or eighteen. She had dark red hair, which glowed like embers in the light of the flickering torches on the walls. She was short, the top of her head not reaching the bottom of the portraits which hung on the Castle's walls, and which had all gone very quiet in the midst of their new visitor.

She turned to call again, and Sirius saw her face for the first time. He leaned forward eagerly.

She _was_ pretty, he thought. Her eyes were an emerald green, vibrant and searching in the firelight for what, he did not know. Her face was a sort of rounded oval, no sharp angles at all. She was a bit plump and she had soft pink lips and a rosy hue in her cheeks, and she seemed to give off an aura of gentleness, but her voice was quite sharp and annoyed when she said, "I'm looking for my father."

Remus jumped. Sirius and Peter opened their mouths to say something, but Remus snapped, "Be quiet! Think for a moment, will you? The girl will not want to be his friend, not if that's her father up there!"

"Please, is anyone there?" the girl said again. The pictures on the wall behind her exchanged a look, but said nothing.

The girl turned around, searching for the next flight of stairs which Sirius knew would lead her to her father, in the dungeons on the fourth floor.

"How are we going to get her out?" Remus said, struggling to keep his voice low. "We can't let her see him, obviously, and we certainly can't let her see James!"

"I have a question, Remus," said Peter. "Why?"

"Keep up, Peter!"

"I'm sorry, have you ever been a teapot before? It's not as easy as I make it look, you know."

"With the conversation, Peter!" Remus said.

"Ignore Remus, Peter," Sirius said. "He's just being himself, you know."

"Hurry up!" Remus said, running now to the fourth floor. "We can at least warn her, we can at least... no!"

When they entered the fourth-floor dungeons-Remus first, on his two legs, then Sirius, on his stick, and Peter last, for his method of moving was a mix between hopping and a shimmying-sort of dance-the girl was already there, kneeling before the bars her father was locked behind.

"Lilit," he was urging her, "Lilit, please go. It isn't safe here. I want you to go, please, take Farbison and go."

"Who did this to you?" said the girl, and she didn't sound weak, though she had fallen to the ground; she sounded angry. "Abba, who put you in here?"

"It doesn't matter, just go, I don't want you here for one second longer!"

"James will be coming soon," Remus whispered to Sirius and Peter, the three of them hidden in the shadows. "Sirius, go and warn him, so he doesn't hurt the girl."

Sirius nodded. He knew it was the right thing to do.

His spirits were dampened as he left the dungeons and hurried off to find James. So the man really was the girl's father... this would make it harder for them to start a friendship, he guessed. Perhaps Remus was right. Although, Sirius thought he probably would have married any person who had locked up his father... but perhaps the girl and the old man were closer.

"Sirius?" said James, stepping out of the darkness of a corridor. He was relieved to see he looked much calmer than he last saw him. "I heard that there's another person in the Castle," he said, sounding nervous. "A girl."

"It's true," Sirius said. "I saw her."

"She should leave," James said, his voice quiet. "It's not safe for her here."

"She won't leave." Sirius hesitated for a moment. "The man is her father."

James' eyes widened.

"Hear me out," Sirius said, raising a branch. "Invite her to stay for a while. I spoke to the man. He's an inventor. He was on his way to the IA in the Greylands. Invite the girl to stay here while he travels, and you two can... get to know each other."

"Get to know each other," James repeated dully. "You think the girl will love me? I was given two chances in the past twelve hours to break the curse and I destroyed both of them. I'm sorry, Sirius. We'll be like this forever. I'm sorry."

"Perhaps the girl will be understanding," Sirius said hopefully. "You must at least give it a chance. Come meet her."

"She doesn't want that. Help them both out of the Castle."

"James," Sirius said. "You can't run forever."

James turned. "Just help them out," he said miserably.

"You owe this to us," he called after him.

James froze. He turned around slowly. For a moment, Sirius worried he had made him angry, but he faced him with drooping shoulders. "You're right," he said. "I'll try. For you."

Sirius walked James back to the dungeon. He was silent. He knew James was struggling to keep himself calm, because that was what that wretched woman's curse did, it took away his ability to control himself. She stole his body and she destroyed his mind. He was trapped.

As they climbed the steps to the dungeons where the man and his daughter were, Sirius could hear the girl saying. "I think someone's coming, Abba. I hear them now."

"Go, Lily-leib," he moaned.

"Please don't," said James softly.

The girl-Lily-whipped around, startled. "I-who's there?"

"Beast," said her father, struggling to say the word. "Lily, Lily, why didn't you run?"

"I..." James said, looking at Sirius, Remus, and Peter for support. They nodded vigorously, even Remus. "I mean you no harm." He stepped a little closer to the girl, though still obscured by the shadows.

"Who are you?" Lily said, her eyes searching the dark, trying to make out his outline.

"The master of this castle," James said. "I can let your father out."

Lily's face broke out into a smile. "He'll let you out!" she said to her father excitedly. "Did you hear that, he'll let you out!"

"I understand you need to leave to the Greylands," James said carefully, and Sirius was so proud of him, he was bounding up and down with excitement.

"Abb-my father does, yes."

"He should go," James said. "But... you... should stay here."

The old man groaned, like he was in physical pain. Lily faltered. "What?"

"You've come at a terrible time," James said. "It starts to snow here early. Not like in the other districts. It's dangerous to leave."

Lily paled. "Other districts? Where are we now?"

"Gryffindor," said James, and Lily took a step back.

Ah. So she had heard the stories. She was probably making the connection in her mind right now.

But James, to his credit, did not let her see if it deterred him. "Will you stay? As a guest?"

And Sirius watched the girl glance at her father, glance at the beast she could not see, and say, "Yes, I'll stay for as long as you like, if you get him to the Greylands safely."

"No!" sobbed the old man.

"It was not an ultimatum," James mumbled to Sirius.

"Go with it," he encouraged.

"No!" Remus whispered angrily. "Do not!"

"You are free to go with him," James said slowly. "But... I can't help you both leave. The carriage that can withstand this snow will only fit one. I'm sorry."

"Then let him out," Lily said, without missing a beat. "And I will stay."

James crept forward slowly, so she could look at him.

The colour drained out of her face when she saw him, but she took a step forward, held out her arm, and said in a clear voice, "I'm Lily."

James, who had not been invited by a human to come closer since the curse was cast, reached out a massive paw and took her hand gingerly. "James," he said.

They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, still holding on to each other, while Lily's father cried in behind them, mourning for the loss of his daughter, and Sirius' heart soared, rejoicing at the gain of his freedom.

It was coming. He could feel it.

* * *

 **A/N: I don't think I've ever written from Sirius' POV before. It was fun. How do you think I did? I'd love to hear any thoughts you have on the chapter, if you've got the time.**

 **I'd better go study, since, you know. The exam is in like seventeen hours and I haven't started yet.**


	5. Pabulum

**A/N: Hi! Wow, that was a ridiculously long wait. I had a terrible case of writer's block with the Be our Guest scene. And the Jily Trope Fest is long over, but who cares? Anyway, the rest of this story should come a lot quicker.**

* * *

Lily watched her Farbison fly away, attached to the carriage that her father was inside. The snow was biting at her, her robes were much too thin to keep out the cold, but she did not care. She felt numb. She had no idea when the next time she would see her father again was.

"Are you ready to come inside now?" said James next to her.

She turned and blinked at him, like she had forgotten he was there, forgotten where she was, just that she was not with him. Her father.

"All right," she said uncertainly.

She did not know if she trusted the, er, master. He had kept her father as prisoner-the dungeon made that clear enough-but she was being hosted as a guest. And his... friends, the talking candelabra and teapot had assured her they would do everything in their power to keep her comfortable.

The clock had been rather distant. She did not think he liked her much. Perhaps he felt she was intruding on their lives.

Lily followed him-James-up staircases and corridors. She had the oddest sensation that everything she saw had just been placed there, including the staircases. Like everything moved when she was not looking.

"You're a guest here," James said to her, in his low, growling sort of voice. "Feel free to go anywhere you want in the Castle, at any time. Just not the North Tower."

"Why, what's in the North Tow-"

"You can't go!"

Lily was startled. He seemed rather courteous before. She didn't understand why he had snapped at her.

"My personal chambers," James said, clearly struggling to keep his voice calm. "But as I said... everywhere else is your home."

Lily nodded, though he could not see her, as he was still leading her. "Thank you," she said.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes before they stopped in front of a door. "These will be your chambers," James said, turning to face her. "No one will enter without your permission."

"Thank you," Lily said again.

"Breakfast will be served soon," James said. "Join me."

It didn't sound like an invitation.

"No, thank you," Lily said. "I'm not hungry."

"Lunch, then."

"I don't think so," she said. "I might just take the day to rest."

"All right," he said. "So I'll meet you for dinner."

But Lily did not want to meet him for dinner. She thought she was entitled to the whole day in bed. "Perhaps tomorrow," she said, "I'm very tired."

James was fidgeting slightly. "What will you do, then? Not eat all day?"

"Well..."

"All right then!" he burst out. "Starve! See if I care!" And with that, he swept off.

Lily stared at his retreating back in shock. What was with him? Why did he have these sudden bursts of anger out of nowhere?

Why had she agreed to this? Surely a bit of snow would not have hurt them at all. She could have been far away from this awful castle by now... with her father...

Lily fought back tears as she pushed open her door and sat on her bed. She would not cry. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down and surveyed the room.

The bed she was sitting on was very comfortable. The headboard was nicer than the one Abba had made her, the swirls more precise, as if they had been made by magic. The sheets and throw pillows were all scarlet and gold, which Lily was vaguely aware of as Gryffindor's colours.

In her room was also a wardrobe, which stood tall against the deep burgundy walls. Lily stood up and approached it, hoping perhaps to find new robes inside which might fit her, as hers were still cold from her flight.

Lily reached to open the wardrobe, and the jumped backwards quite suddenly for it- _it opened its eyes_.

"Good morning, dear!" it said brightly.

"Oh!" Lily said.

"I didn't know we were having guests," it said, in a decidedly female voice. "I would have done something to brighten up the room! How about we open the curtains. You, open!"

At her word, the golden drapes pulled apart from each other, and the brilliant silvery-white light of the sun on a snowy day streamed in, making the whole room look a lot more cheerful.

"Oh," Lily said, "thank you."

"You're welcome, dear. I'm Poppy, your wardrobe."

"Lily," she said weakly.

"Lily. Lovely. Here, dear, let's draw you a bath. Get you out of those wet robes."

Poppy barked more orders around the room, and while none of the other objects had faces, they were all clearly sentient at some level, because they all did what she said.

After a warm bath, Lily, wrapped in a fluffy robe the rack had handed to her, stood by Poppy, whose doors were closed.

"I think I've got just the thing..." she said swaying side-to-side. "Aha! Yes! Here it is." She swung open her left door and, using the rod, gave Lily a set of red robes. "We normally wear only red and gold here," she said to her. "Gryffindor pride, you know."

"I'm a native of Slytherin," Lily said.

"Well, you're in Gryffindor now! How long do you think you'll be staying?" she asked, in a would-be casual voice.

"Er, until my father comes back to get me." Lily did not know when that would be, but she hoped it would be soon. Staying here for a long time with James made her uneasy. His mood changed so fast.

"Well, let's hope we get you for long enough!" Poppy said cheerfully.

"Long enough for what?" Lily said blankly.

"Oh. Er. To properly enjoy your company. Why don't you rest, dear? You must be exhausted."

And she was exhausted, but even though the bed was the comfiest thing Lily had ever lain on, she wasn't too keen on falling asleep with a talking wardrobe in the room with her. She tried to fight it as best as she could, but after ten minutes, the wear of journey and the emotional toll of leaving her father for the first time claimed her and she fell asleep.

Her dreams were vivid; she could see her father leaving, and a terrible beast leading her down into the dungeons of a castle... not this castle, surely, for the dungeons here were aboveground... and this beast was much more terrible than James... his fur was not brown like his, it was black... a greasy, jet black... no, it was not a beast, it was Severus... he turned to face her... his eyes met hers...

Lily awoke with a start. She looked around the room.

Through the windows she could see night had fallen, and white moonlight streamed in through the windows, making all the gold things in the room glow a strange silvery colour. Her wardrobe was asleep again.

Lily got up from the bed and walked toward the vanity on the far side of her room, looking at her reflection.

She had bags under her eyes, but she felt more awake than she had that morning. Her hair was a rat's nest. She picked up a brush laying on the table and a ribbon and tried to make herself look presentable.

When her hair was in a neat ponytail, Lily remembered that she needn't have fixed it up at all, because James told her she was not invited to eat if she did not eat with him.

But she was a guest here, wasn't she? And she was hungry! The candelabra and the teapot (what were their names? Sirius and Peter.) had told her they would make her stay comfortable.

Well. Food would make her comfortable.

Lily's mind was made up. Careful not to wake Poppy, she crept out of her room, closing the door silently behind her.

Lily did not know where the kitchens were, but she wandered around a bit, and after a while, she found Peter.

"Mademoiselle Lily!" he said. "Lovely to see you out and about. Feeling rested?"

"Yes," she said. "Thanks... for the room."

"Don't thank me, thank James," he said, rocking side to side. Lily felt if he were human, he would be waving an arm.

"Oh. Okay," she said.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Well... I'm rather hungry," she said. "Can you show me where the kitchens are?"

"Nonsense! We'll make you a meal. Let me find Sirius..."

Peter hopped down a corridor and Lily followed him. They went down a staircase, where Sirius was standing, talking (bickering?) to the candelabra.

"Honestly, Remus," he was saying, "there's no reason why not-ah! Mademoiselle!"

"Hello," she said shyly.

"How are you doing?" he asked, beaming at her, while Remus glared at him.

"Mademoiselle Lily is hungry," Peter said. "We came to find you."

"I'll get the house-elves started on your meal right away," he said happily. "Come, follow me."

The three of them followed Sirius, although Lily and Remus were faster, because they had legs, and Remus was clearly adept at walking at his pace, but Lily kept tripping over her feet.

"James will be angry," Remus hissed at Sirius, blowing out the flame on one of his branches.

"Nonsense," Sirius said, and with a puff at it, he lit it again. "He would be so upset if he found out we left our guest to starve. We know he's got a temper, Mademoiselle, but he's very sweet, really. And it isn't his fault." Sirius said the last sentence firmly, as though he had said it a million times before.

"Whose fault is it then?"

"She understands," Remus said to Sirius smugly.

"No, she doesn't," Peter said. "She was asking. It's a confusing statement."

"Yes, well, we'll get to that later," Sirius said briskly. "Now. More pressing concerns at hand. Mademoiselle, you're hungry. Here we are."

They stood at the end of a corridor, in front of a picture of some fruit. Lily stared at it, then at the three household objects in front of her, wondering if this was a joke. Perhaps they did not realise she needed real food?

"Could you tickle the pear, Mademoiselle?" Sirius said to her.

"Erm," she said, trying not to show her shock on her face. She didn't want to be rude. "Er, sure."

Lily stretched out her arm and, feeling rather foolish, tickled the pear painted between two oranges.

The moment the tips of her fingers brushed the pear, it started to squirm. Lily gasped slightly, but continued, smiling a bit as the pear started to giggle. How, she did not understand, because it didn't have a mouth, but she did not dwell on this because after another moment, the pear twisted into what was unmistakably a doorknob.

"Well, go on, open it," Sirius said after a few seconds.

Lily did.

"Monsieurs! And Mademoiselle!" squeaked someone Lily could not see.

"Good evening, Klayn," said Sirius.

Lily looked down. "Oh!" she said. "Oh, hello."

Lily, of course, knew what a house-elf was, and she had seen them in pictures, but never in person. The house-elf in question was larger than the three... men... at her feet, reaching her knees. She... he... they had big blue eyes, as big her fist. Their skin appeared to be made of leather, and was pale green.

"Klayn heard tell of a girl in the Castle!" they said in a squeaky voice, beaming up at Lily. "But she did not know how pretty she was!"

"Oh..." Lily said, blushing. "Thank you."

Lily did not like to accept compliments without returning them, but she couldn't think of anything to say. "Er, are you in charge here?"

"Yes," she said, beaming again. "Master James is told Klayn that she is as good as Mistress of the Castle." She giggled, as if this was ridiculous.

"Oh," she said. "That was... nice of him."

"Master James is very nice indeed, Mademoiselle!" Klayn said, bouncing up and down on her feet.

"Well," Lily said. She knew house-elves were treated horribly, and only kind souls were nice to them... but nice souls didn't really lock people up in dungeons, did they?

"Well, Klayn?" said Sirius. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she said. "Come in, demoiselle, come in! Klayn and the elves is working all day long, for you!"

"Oh," Lily said, as she was ushered in by the three at her feet. "Oh-did you?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle Lily!" Sirius said, swirling around the entrance-room to the kitchen with flair. "We have prepared all this...for you!" He swung his left branch and his right branch out, as if he were throwing his arms to the side.

At once, elves appeared on either side of him, carrying dish upon dish of things Lily had never seen before in her life.

"Dinner," he began dramatically, "...is served."

* * *

James was furious with himself.

It was one thing to let the curse take over his mind and destroy a room in the Castle, but lock up an innocent man? And then lose his temper at his daughter? Unforgivable.

She would never love him, this he knew in his heart. But the look on Sirius' face...he had to try.

At least Sirius looked at him with hope. Though he knew he wouldn't live up to his expectations, it was better than with Remus, who had already given up and James, and would not look at him at all.

He didn't say it, of course, but James knew.

That was part of the reason why he was going up to the girl's chambers now, a sandwich on a golden plate in one paw and an empty goblet in the other. Not only to fulfill his promise to Sirius and Peter, not only to feed the poor young woman, but to show Remus he was not all gone. He was not entirely a beast.

But when he reached the girl's chambers, no one answered, and when he pressed his head to the door, he could not hear a human's breathing inside.

"In the kitchens," a voice said from behind him.

James turned to face the portrait who spoke. "What?" he asked, growling slightly.

"She's in the kitchens."

James was at the entrance before he had even realised he had moved. He had lost control, again, ready to rip into the wall and wreak havoc on the poor soul who had dared disobeyed him...but then he heard her laugh.

She was clapping along to Sirius' ridiculous dance-God, what was he doing-and smiling and cheering and laughing. Such a carefree, happy laugh. He had not heard one like that since...since before the curse. One hundred and nineteen years ago.

And it brought him back. He heard her laugh, and he could feel himself regaining control, feel the effects of the curse loosen on his mind...

He watched her for a moment longer, and then left to his own chambers.

* * *

 **A/N: So I've received some really lovely reviews, and they make me so happy, so please keep them coming! Let me know what you liked/disliked, something you'd like to see in the next few chapters, or anything like that. Thanks for reading!**


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